


A Quiet Place

by Shoshanna Gold (shoshannagold)



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-24
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 08:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoshannagold/pseuds/Shoshanna%20Gold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray and Rudy have some issues to work out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quiet Place

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction based upon characters from the HBO miniseries.
> 
> Spoilers/Warnings: Set during _A Bomb in the Garden_. Also, I stole a few lines of dialogue from that episode.
> 
> Written for Porn Battle 9, prompt: bruises.
> 
> Thanks to kahtyasofia for the beta and general hand-holding.

The red haze behind Rudy's eyes cleared as strong hands pulled him off Ray. His wind was cut off suddenly, as Manimal got him in a choke-hold. Rudy tried to shake him off but he was down and Manimal had the advantage. He held Rudy until Rudy stopped fighting him. "Jesus fucking Christ, Rudy. You were going to kill him!"

Ray was being held off by Gabe but he was still yelling. "Motherfucker! You goddamn fucking piece of shit! Rudy! You fucking PTSD psycho! You're just like every other jock piece of shit in high school!" He shoved past Gabe and Poke. "Get the fuck off of me!"

What the fuck had he done? He pulled away from Manimal, shouting after Ray. "Ray!" He wanted to go after him, but there was a blockade of Marines between him and Ray now, and even he couldn't get through that. "Brother! Ray!"

Manimal got in his face again. "Goddamn it, Rudy. Go to your little quiet place and chant, motherfucker."

Where could he go? There was nowhere here, nothing but fields and bombed out buildings. He would just walk it off, somehow, somewhere, until what he'd done managed to right itself in his mind, until he could take a deep breath again. He started off the field, but Wynn was right there, grim and unhappy. He handed Rudy his shirt, and Rudy took it, grateful for the gesture even if he knew it wasn't one of comfort. Gunny was going to kick his ass, but that was good, that's what he deserved for hurting one of his brothers. He took the water bottle Wynn offered, the cool water a salve to his throat, forcing the bile of self-disgust back into his gut.

He looked up at the Gunny, ready to take it. Just as Mike started to say something though, the LT came up to their position. "I've got this," he said, lightly touching Mike's back. "Thank you."

"You don't have to, Nate," said Mike. "This is my job, sir."

"I know, and you're damn good at it, Mike. But why don't you go talk to Person? Rudy and I are going to take a walk." The LT looked at him sharply. "Ready, Sergeant Reyes?"

He had no fucking clue what was happening, still trying to shake off the adrenaline of the fight, the anguish of its aftermath, but he nodded by rote. "Yes, sir."

Fick nodded and took off at brisk pace, leading them away from the football field, past the landing zone where choppers were loading the wounded to take them to ships in the Gulf. From there they'd go to American military hospitals in Italy, in Germany. In Spain. His gut clenched as he looked at Marines on stretchers, covered in blood and so pale, all of them. Was this where Pappy had been, all alone? But he wouldn't have been alone, would he? Marines were never alone, especially wounded Marines. They had their brothers, their tribe, around them all the time.

What would Pappy say if he'd seen Rudy attack Ray today? He'd be so disappointed in Rudy when he found out, and he was bound to find out. It was going to be the first thing any of their brothers told him the second they saw him. Rudy was just going to have make sure he told him first. He sighed, and Fick glanced at him, but didn't slow their pace or say anything.

They walked for about ten minutes, away from the landing zone, away from the encampments, into another open field outlined by sandbags and sentries, where Marines were loading body bags onto another bird.

Rudy counted: there were nine black bags. Nine Marines who weren't going to go home with their brothers, who wouldn't ever again kiss their wives or play with their dogs. Nine Marines who wouldn't feel American soil beneath their feet again, or shake their best friend's hand. He felt tears prick at his eyes, blinking them back before Fick could see.

But the LT was a Recon Marine, just like the rest of them, and more than that, he was a wise and understanding warrior, a true leader. "I didn't bring you here as punishment," he said. "I'm not trying to play on your fears or torture you with the possibilities of what might have happened to us out there. But I think it's an important reminder of what the consequences can be if we don't do our jobs to the very best of our abilities. And my standards are fucking high, Rudy, because I know what you're capable of."

"Yes, sir."

"We're a team. We have to be, or else we won't make it. And while I may have been told that we won't see combat again on this deployment, I am not at all assured of that. We're still at war in a country where there are hostile forces behind every fucking berm. Between you and me, Sergeant, we haven't done a damn thing to ease the minds of the Iraqi populace, and they could turn on us at any minute. We could be sent back out into the A-O tomorrow, and unless we're fully functioning as a unit, one of you could end up here. And I won't fucking allow that. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're a leader now, Rudy. I saw Person tackle you: I know you didn't start that fight." Fick paused at the end of the field, leaning up against one of the sand bags, sentries ten feet away on either side of him. "But you sure as fuck didn't end it, either." He looked at Rudy expectantly.

"Permission to speak freely, sir."

"Please do."

"Sir, Ray might have started it, but I could have ended it. I didn't, sir. I was caught up in the moment, in this maze of rage and despair." He took a breath, trying to articulate what he had been feeling. He wasn't trying to duck blame, but the LT was offering him a chance to explain himself; he was grateful for that and wanted to do it justice. "It wasn't about Person, but I could have badly hurt him. I'm bigger and stronger, and I have significant martial arts experience. It was unforgiveable of me, sir, and I will take whatever punishment you deem fit."

"Don't be fucking modest with me, Reyes. You've won the Kung Fu world championship twice. You could kill Person with your bare hands, could you not?"

Looking his CO in the eye at that moment was one of the hardest things Rudy had ever done. "Yes, sir."

Fick nodded. "You're a leader now, Rudy, and I expect great things from you. We're all going batshit crazy out here, and Ray's coming down from – well, frankly, I don't want to know what Corporal Person has been ingesting over the last month, but I do know that he hasn't slept for longer than a couple of hours straight since we left Mathilda. None of you have, even when you have the opportunity to do so."

Neither had the LT, but Rudy would leave that point to somebody else. "That doesn't excuse my behavior, sir."

"No, it doesn't. Nor does it excuse Person's. But it does explain it to my satisfaction." said Fick. "I don't know what's coming down the pipe at us, but I do know we're going to damn well be ready for it. Tomorrow morning, and every morning after that, you're going to lead the platoon in PT. We're going to build ourselves back up again, body and soul, and you're going to be my drill sergeant. We start at 0600, and we train until last call for breakfast, and then we start again. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I'm not writing you up for your fight with Person." Fick grinned, unexpectedly. "Just like I'm sure nobody's going to write up Captains Patterson and Schwetje. But that doesn't mean I don't expect you to make amends."

"I will, sir."

"Good. Go see Doc about your hands. If they get infected, they'll fuck with your combat readiness."

His hands? Rudy looked down at them, for the first time seeing the cuts and scrapes. He'd broken open the flesh of his knuckles hitting his brother. Doc should cut them off. "Yes, sir."

Fick nodded. "Thank you, Sergeant. I trust you can find your own way back?"

Rudy nodded.

"One more thing, Rudy," said Fick. He was still leaning against the sandbags, like he might sit and watch them load body bags for the rest of the day. "I'm proud of you, Sergeant. Always. The events of this afternoon don't have any bearing on that, especially after you were so honest with me."

"Thank you, sir," said Rudy, nodding one last time, and then turned sharply and double-timed it away from Fick, before his CO could see the tears streaming down his face.

*

"Come to finish him off?" Brad asked casually. He was sitting up against the Humvee, cleaning his weapon, and he barely looked up when Rudy approached Two-One's position on the tarmac. Rudy wasn't fooled by his mild-mannered tone for one second – he'd caught the flash in the Iceman's eyes. Rudy had fucked with one of Brad's own, and he knew Brad wouldn't let it happen again, consequences be damned.

He ignored the verbal jab and held up the tube of Neosporin. "Doc says that this needs to be applied to the cuts on Ray's face every two hours," he said. "I offered to do this round."

"I got it," said Brad, holding out a hand for the tube. "Thanks." His tone was dismissive; he was clearly going to make Rudy suffer for his sins.

Rudy sighed. "Brad. C'mon, man. You know I've gotta do this." They both knew he wasn't talking about putting ointment on Ray's eye.

Brad looked at him for a long minute. Rudy held as still as possible under the scrutiny, trying to project to Brad how much he wanted to redeem himself with Ray. The truth was that no matter what the LT had ordered, Brad could stop him from seeing Ray and apologizing tonight, and they both knew it. All he had to say was that Ray was asleep, or on watch, or just didn't fucking want to see him, and Rudy would back off and try again later. Not because of who Brad was, but because anything he said would be what Ray really wanted.

"He's already fucked up enough," said Brad quietly. "You aren't going to be the one who has to live with him if you make it worse."

"Maybe I can make it better," said Rudy.

"Maybe you should have thought of that four hours ago before you tried to beat his face flat," said Brad, but he sighed. "Go on, he and Walt are dug in fifteen feet south of the tarmac."

Far enough to get away from the worst of the stench of the burning latrine pits, close enough for them be able to respond immediately if Ad Diwaniyah's defenses were breached. Rudy's team was camped out in a similar position forty feet to the south; if he looked with his thermals, he'd be able to see their heat signatures.

Ray and Walt were sitting together in a Ranger Grave, Walt talking softly while Ray stared up at the night sky, though he was clearly listening to Walt.

Walt stopped talking and glared at Rudy when he saw him. Rudy nodded at him. "Evening, Walt. I'm so sorry to interrupt, but may I have a few minutes of Ray's time?"

"Did Brad let you come back here?" Walt clearly considered that a misjudgment on Brad's part.

Ray sat up. "It's okay, Walt."

Walt scowled at him. "No, it's not."

"Buddy." Ray bumped his shoulder into Walt's. "Give us a few minutes, okay. I promise I'll keep my K-Bar unsheathed the whole time."

Rudy winced.

Walt stood up, still glaring at Rudy. "I'm just gonna be up there talkin' to Brad. Do not make me have to come back here, either of you."

Ray waited until Walt was out of earshot and then gestured to the spot beside him. "Don't stand on ceremony like an asshole, pull up some dirt."

"Are you sure, Ray?"

"Fuck it, my head hurts and I'm not going to strain my eyes staring at you in the dark while we kiss and make up. Sit the fuck down, you fruitcake."

Rudy dropped to his knees and crawled into the grave, sitting opposite Ray. He tried to tuck into himself, but the grave hadn't been dug with the idea that two people would sit in it, facing each other, and his legs were right up against Ray. The intimacy of being this close was strange, given the circumstances, but Rudy hoped it meant his apology would be well received.

Even in the dim light of the camp light, he could see the bruising on Rudy's face, his right eye swollen and purple. "Ray, my brother, I have no words that say how sorry I am."

"Fuck, Rudy, I'm the one who totally lost my shit out there. I tackled you from behind, dude. That was incredibly not cool of me. So, Christ, I'm sorry."

"It doesn't excuse what I did to you. I could have pushed you off; I could have just tangled with you and not tried to kill you. I used my power to hurt my brother, and there is no excuse for that."

Ray cocked his head. "Were you really trying to kill me?"

"I don't know, man. I just completely lost my head; I wasn't thinking at all. But I hurt you, and I would have hurt you worse if they hadn't stopped me. You're my brother, and I could have hurt you badly." Just like with the LT, Rudy had to fight to look Ray in the eye. This was harder than that had been, because the evidence of the damage he'd done was written on Ray's face.

"Bet that really fucks up your dharma, huh?" Ray grinned at him, and Rudy marveled at how easily he had been forgiven. Beneath all of the bullshit, Ray Person had a heart of solid gold, and Rudy was blessed to have him as a friend. He laughed, relief swamping him. "You have no idea, man. It's got a black hole the size of Texas in it right now. My aura's probably all fucked up, too."

Ray nodded seriously. "I was going to say something, man, but I know how self-conscious you are about your looks." He touched his eye gingerly. "I guess it's a good thing I'm not? Between you and your espresso maker, I'm going to end up with a Purple Heart by the time we get back to Pendleton. Get the Corps to pay for some reconstructive surgery so I can be as pretty as you and Brad."

Rudy laughed. "You've got your own charm, my man." He held up the tube of antibiotic ointment. "Our warrior-healer told me to put this on your wounds. He's worried about infection because of all the shit in the air."

Ray nodded. "You got enough light to see what you're doing? If you take out my eye, Brad will never forgive you."

"I'm not sure he will, anyway," said Rudy, his mood turning dark again.

"He'll be fine. He's just worried about everybody. Another day of counting bullets and bitching me out and he'll get back his frostiness. The Iceman melts, dude, just like the rest of us. And shit, don't tell him I said that."

Rudy grinned. "There's just no putting you down, my man, that's what's so great about you." He put on the gloves Doc had given him, and dabbed some of the ointment on his finger. "Hold still."

There wasn't a lot of light, and he had to move close to Ray to properly see what he was doing. Ray hitched his breath when Rudy touched his eye, the closest any of them would get to ever conceding to pain. Rudy put his other hand on the back of Ray's neck, a touch meant to comfort. Ray made the same noise when Rudy spread the ointment, and the noise pierced Rudy's heart. He had caused his brother this pain, and he wanted, more than anything, to make it better. Without thinking, he kissed Ray on the mouth.

Ray was still for a beat under him and then he was kissing Rudy back, opening his mouth to him, their tongues and lips gently touching and caressing.

Rudy pulled away to catch his breath. "Ray. We shouldn't do this. I don't want to step on anybody's toes here."

"Vegas rules, man, while we're deployed. What happens in Iraq stays in Iraq. Why the fuck else do you think I've been letting Brad suck the LT off every chance he gets? If it's good for the platoon, it's good for us."

"Is this good for the platoon?" Rudy asked, reaching down and squeezing Ray's cock through his cammies. So fucking typical of Brad to put the platoon's happiness before his own. Then again, if he was sneaking off with the LT like they had all suspected he was, maybe he _was_ thinking about himself for a change.

Ray pushed up into the touch. "It sure as fuck is. Just, maybe, less kissing." He made a face. "I know it's gay, but it upsets my boyfriend. And not to kill the mood here, dude, but you're the one who's married."

"We're bonded to each other spiritually, but we don't get all caught up into the entanglements of physical monogamy," Rudy explained, unbuttoning Ray's cammies and pulling his cock free of his shorts. He stroked it a few times, getting a feel for its girth and length.

"Right," Ray drawled. "Vegas rules. That feels fucking amazing but if you get out for a second, I can make this a lot better for both of us.

Rudy pushed himself out of the grave, and Ray lay down on his back. The camp light was on the ground beside the grave, but it barely made a difference; it was so dark Rudy could barely tell that Ray was partially exposed, the head of his cock just peeking out from his fly. "Come here," he said, holding out a hand to Rudy.

"On top of you, my man? Are you sure?" Rudy said doubtfully. "I'm pretty heavy."

Ray laughed quietly. "You don't think I'm used to having big, heavy Marines on top of me? Have you looked at the behemoth who is my team leader? Just put your knees on either side of me. It'll be a tight fit, but isn't that the fucking point?"

Rudy slid back into the grave, following Ray's instructions. It was tight, but he fit. He pressed his cock against Ray, rubbing up against his thigh. After so long with just his right hand for company, the friction felt amazing. "Oh, man, I don't want to come in my shorts," he whispered.

"You won't," said Ray, sliding his hand between them. "Lift your hips."

Rudy did as he was told and Ray unzipped his cammies, and pulled Rudy's cock out. "Sweet Jesus, I knew you were big, but when you're hard, it's like a fucking baseball bat, dude," he marveled, jacking his hand up and down. "Except I bet you never strike out with this slugger."

"You've got a beautiful cock, too, brother," said Rudy, reaching for it. "It's been a while since I've been with a guy who isn't cut." He stroked up and down and Ray's face went slack with pleasure.

It didn't take long for them to find each other's rhythms – Rudy made a point of going slow, of pushing Ray's foreskin back and swiping his thumb over the head, and then pulling back again. He wanted Ray to feel good, to know that Rudy's hands weren't just weapons, that they were instruments of pleasure. Ray was doing a pretty good job, too, getting his hand far enough back to gently squeeze Rudy's balls. Rudy groaned and jacked his hips forward, trying to get more of that sweet sensation.

With his free hand, he touched Ray's face, his skin rough with a month of exposure, a deep black groove under the eye that wasn't bruised from Rudy's fist. He looked so tired, Rudy thought, like he was frayed down to the last thread. That's why Brad had been walking around so grim and tense, probably; he was worried about his RTO. And Ray had been so quiet lately – Rudy hadn't realized how much he'd seen without putting things together. This war was wearing on all of them, and he was so occupied with his own team, he didn't know what was going on with any of his other brothers.

He let go of Ray's dick long enough to gently push Ray's hand off his own. "I've got this," he said, sliding his thumb into Ray's mouth. "You just lie there and let me make you feel good. I'll hook you up, my man."

Ray sucked on his thumb and then winced. "Cut on my lip," he said. "Sorry."

"Don't you apologize to me, Ray Person, for a wound I gave you." With complete disregard for Brad's rule, he lay a small kiss on Ray's lower lip. "I did come to kiss it better, after all."

Ray moaned, pushing up into Rudy's hand, and Rudy renewed his efforts, rubbing their cocks against each other, his hand circling both and moving up and down. He licked his other hand and switched his grip, and suddenly everything was so much slicker, between his spit and the pre-come trickling from both their dicks.

"Fuck, Rudy. You can punch me out any day if this is how you make it up to me," Ray said breathlessly. "Oh, shit, man, I'm gonna come – I'm gonna, oh fuck, yes." Rudy moved his hand up to catch Ray's jizz before it made a mess of both of them, and gentled his touch. He rubbed the come into his own dick and that was enough, it was hot and sticky and _good_. His mind opened and cleared, and with a quiet groan he came.

They lay there for a minute, and as Rudy caught his breath, he realized that Ray had closed his eyes and was breathing deeply. "Typical man," he said under his breath, but he really didn't mind at all. He was moved that Ray still trusted him enough to fall asleep so exposed to him, and he was grateful Ray was sleeping at all. He lifted himself out of the grave and found a blanket left by the grave.

He would swear that hadn't been before, but there had admittedly been a minute there that Rudy hadn't been paying attention to anything but the sweet feel of the man beneath him. A highly trained Recon Marine could have moved in a battalion's worth of blankets, and it might have escaped Rudy's attention.

Ray twitched when Rudy tucked the blanket around him, but stayed asleep. Rudy couldn't help himself; he brushed a kiss over Ray's forehead, a touch meant to hasten healing.

All was quiet by the Two-One's Humvee when Rudy walked past. Trombley was still sleeping in the backseat, and Walt was crashed out on a bedroll on the pavement. Only Brad was awake, fiddling with one of their radios. He looked up at Rudy, his expression much kinder than it had been twenty minutes ago. "Are you boys friends again?" he asked.

Rudy nodded. "I really am sorry, Brad."

Brad nodded and then reached behind him. He passed Rudy a bunch of baby wipes. "As long as it's really unfucked, I'm prepared to accept that apology."

"It is." Rudy wiped his hands, cleaning the sticky remnants of two orgasms off of himself. "He's asleep."

"No shit?" Brad looked surprised. "I might have to have you come by and tell him a bedtime story every night."

Rudy grinned. "I think he'd rather a kiss goodnight from you, any day."

"Well, who wouldn't?” Brad looked smug. "You did good, Rudy. Thank you."

"Thank you, Brad." Rudy felt the last of the dread and shame he'd been carrying all day fall away at those kind words. He smiled at him. "I'm going to go see if I can put my dharma back together. PT at 0600, you know."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Brad nodded, standing up. "I'm going to check on Sleeping Beauty."

Rudy nodded and watched Brad disappear into the dark night. He felt like the luckiest man in the world; he was part of the tribe again, and he would protect them better this time, from the enemies in their hearts as well as the ones behind the berms.


End file.
